When We Were Older
by Dead.SummerXx
Summary: Truthfully, the grass is never really greener on the other side—especially if you're a mentally handicapped man with more dimples than brain cells and a special needs teacher with more skeletons in your closet than bones in your entire body. AU, USUK
1. PART I: i

**A/N: **Yes, I based this off of _Flowers For Algernon_ by Daniel Keyes. Anyway. The chapters will be short, but when I update, multiple ones will be uploaded at a time. I just feel that breaking them up like this is the best way to go. And for those of you who are following _Snowblind_—that takes priority over this, so don't worry. c:

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"_Between a fellow who is stupid and honest and one who is smart and crooked, I will take the first. I won't get much out of him, but with that other guy I can't even keep what I've already got."_

—_Lewis B. Hershey_

**When We Were Older**

**PART I**

* * *

**progris riport 1—martch 2, 1967**

_Dr Honda (thats how yu spel it, he evin told me; I think its chinese or sumthing I thot it was hawnduh like yawn its rilly wierd) seys i shuld start riteing entrys in this book evry day becuse he wants too ricord my progris. I think thats why their calld progris riports but i stilll dont get it. What am I supposd two rite down. It doesnt make sence to me but if Dr Honda seys I shuld than I will. Hes a doctor so he has to bee smart rite. Hes got to no what hes doing. I want to be smart to. He told me to rite down sum stuff abot myself so here yu go. My name is Alfred Jones im twenty for yirs old. I dont no what else too rite so I guess im done for now. _

_T:KA_


	2. PART I: ii

**progris riport 2—martch 4, 1967**

_Sorry I wasnt abel to rite yesterday Dr Honda if yu reed this I took sum tests yesterday so thats why I wasn't abel to rite but yu probly alredy no that. The tests were rilly wierd I didnt like them. One of them was sumthing the nice lady Dr called i think it was _"rawr shok"_. All it was was a tun off kards with inkblots on them and the nice lady Dr told me to telll her what I saw in them I didnt get it. They were just inkblots I mean what were they supposd to be. Then she geyv me another test with pikshurs of pepul on them she told me to tell her what they might be doing. I sed how shuld I no im not ther she sed yes I no but what do yu think they culd posibly be doing Alfred. Wen I told her I didnt no and I didnt want to lie I hate lieing becuse its rong and I always get kot she looked rilly sad. I didnt get that either whats rong with being onest. _

_I dont rilly like the drugs that Dr Honda and Dr Edelstein (thats how yu spel it two) give me either becuse they make me feel funny but they sey its good so ill take them. Dr Honda seys that the day after tommorow mite be the operashun depending on how well I do on a finel test and im rilly exited i cant wait to show Artie how smart ill be Dr Honda seys ill be even smartr than artie. Thats amezing becuse artie is a jenyus. I wanna no what the finel test is tho it sounds rilly exiting sumthing abot a meys._

_The past fyew days have ben ok but I miss my nite klasses with artie. I mean I dont miss artie himself becuse hes a ass but I wanna lern good to. I rilly hope that this operashun werks I want to make Mattie happy. Hes sad all the time now but wen I told him about the operashun he seemd happyer. I was rilly shockd when Dr Honda told me it was Artie that told him and Dr Edelstein id be good for this operashun becuse like I sed hes a ass. But it was nice of him and now I cant dissappoint him becuse evin tho hes meen hes a good teacher and I no that he wouldnt have told Dr Honda and Dr Edelstein abot me if he didnt want me too do good and lern to be smart. its nice that sumone finlly believes in me. I no Matties my brother and Tino and Berwald love me but I no deep down inside that they dont think ill be abel two do this on my own and I dont think I can either. But now I have Artie and Dr Honda and Dr Edelstein. Artie's meen and Dr Edelstein is rilly prissy and Dr Honda is rilly ackward and speaks funny but i know they believe in me or at least hope the operashun will werk and thats enuff for me. I hope its enuff for Mattie too._

_T:KA_


	3. PART I: iii

**progris riport 3—martch 5, 1967**

_Today Dr Honda (I still think his name is wierd) tuk me to his offis at Hetalias reserch sentar it was rilly big wich suprised me. Anyway he tuk me ther four the finel test it was rilly stupid I didnt get it. Dr Edelstein Dr Honda shod me a mouse (he told me how to spel that to shouldnt it me maus) his name was Iggy. That part was rilly funny because the maus mouse lookd alot like artie since he had rilly big eybrows too. Then Dr Honda brot out I think he calld it a meys and told Iggy to get to the bocks with the cheez in it. It was rilly cool when Iggy did I didnt know mise (meese?) were so smart. Then Dr Honda told me to race aginst Iggy to see hoo culd get to the cheez fastr. Iggy wun! I cant belive a mouse is smartr than me well I acktully kinda can but still thats krazy. I rilly am dum. I was rilly disaponted but Dr Honda told me to go agin a fyew mor times like sicks or sevin I dont remembr good. But evry time I loosd. _

_Just aftr I left Dr Hondas offis I herd him and Dr Edelstein fiteing sumthing about me and my intill-sumthing-se and the operashun I didnt undrstand alot off the werds they were seying but it saundid imprtint. Latr Dr Honda came to see me befor I left Hetalia aftr takeing my medisin and he told me that the operashun wuld be happining tommorow im so exited and so is Mattie and Tino and Berwald I evin let Hanatamago (krazy name to Tinos so wierd sometimes I wunder if its becus hes from Finlend) eat sum of my desirt aftr diner. I still miss going to klass and ill haev to remembr to thank Artie aftir the operashun ive been so bisy laytly I haevnt seen him in a long time. Dr Honda seys he sent Artie a lettr telling him abot whats happining with me but I stilll want to talk too Artie myself. Neckst time ill definitly be smart to. _

_T:KA_


	4. PART I: iv

—_London, England – Monday, March 6, 1967—_

The insipid streets of downtown London stirred along listlessly, the tall, old buildings and pavements dappled a flat grey in the waning morning light, the sun hidden behind thick clouds of smog and storm. Despite the dreary weather, people bustled about, too enthralled in their own dismal existences to be bothered with noticing the man watching them all.

Arthur Kirkland leaned against the open window of his fourth-story apartment, elbows resting crosswise upon the old wood of the pane. The chipped white paint crackled unpleasantly against his skin through the thin fabric of his green turtleneck, but he didn't care. Caught between his thin, pursed lips and clenched teeth, a slender, fresh-out of-the-pack cigarette burned a starbright orange at the opposite end, causing a billowing scarf of smoke to trail above and beyond him along with the damp wind. The acrid tang of nicotine on his tongue was like no other; distracting and addicting all at once, and, large brows furrowed, the twenty-eight-year-old man relished in yet another drag.

He should be planning his next lesson, he knew. Papers didn't grade themselves, after all, but it felt to him as though his mind was numb, frozen in time as the rest of the world skyrocketed past him. Unable to do little else, the sequences of the past few days' events played in his head over and over again, a broken record screaming in his ears and shredding his thoughts asunder with cruel, merciless fingers.

He and Kiku Honda had been friends for years. Despite their past differences, their friendship was one of the strongest, if not _the_ strongest, relationships that Arthur had ever had outside of his younger brother, Peter. It was just unfortunate he couldn't say the same for Roderich Edelstein, Kiku's Austrian-born partner. As doctors that had been working in the field together for some time, and not only at Hetalia's scientific research center, Kiku and Edelstein's relationship was one of utmost respect, and, though it was completely professional, they held each other in such high esteem it was hard to believe otherwise. Arthur didn't _hate_ Edelstein, exactly, but he most definitely didn't like him, nor trust him, and vice-versa.

It wasn't as though Arthur didn't have confidence Kiku with his student, however. It was quite the opposite, really. In fact, Arthur trusted Kiku with many things, some of which Arthur didn't even entrust to himself. What the two doctors were planning doing, though, was beyond questionable.

Alfred was special. Arthur had been tutoring and teaching the capricious man for almost four years, ever since Alfred was twenty. It was hard to believe such a long time had passed already, but in some ways not. Alfred had a way of making everything seem to go faster, stuck in the same mentality and personality that never distorted as everything and everyone changed around him. He was a constant; not only within himself, but within Arthur's own life. Every night they would meet at Hetalia College Center for Retarded Adults, save for weekends, and, though he was loathe to admit it even within the not-so-safety of his own mind, Alfred was the highlight of each and every one Arthur's bleak days.

It was sad, really. Arthur had never been normal, to say the least – his now-annulled police record from when he was a rebellious teen was a testament to that – but to find his only solace (albeit reluctantly) in the form of a younger, mentally-impaired man that detested every fiber of his very being was just…disappointing.

Very, very disappointing.

They were at each other's throats constantly, and more often than not about the stupidest of things. It had been so since the day that they met – the day that Alfred's twin, Mattwhatshisname (an overall nice fellow, although just a _tad_ too shy and meek for Arthur's tastes, enough so to be outrageously forgettable) enrolled Alfred in the scholarship program and was placed in Arthur's only night class. It was like fire against fire, inferno versus inferno. By no means did Arthur have anything against the disabled (he wouldn't teach mentally impaired adults otherwise), but there was just _something_ about Alfred that set off a trigger inside of him—a trigger that ignited a feeling Arthur had thought he'd been long-exonerated of.

Freedom.

If Alfred was the embodiment beyond anything than utter stupidity (in terms of personality, of course; not even Arthur could disparage the man for being thusly impaired), it was this. Arthur didn't know if it had anything to do with the fact that Alfred was American-born, but it was something in his spirited cornflower eyes, something in the way he spoke, the way he behaved. Although he was hindered by the mental and physical prison of retardation, Alfred was quite possibly—no, scratch that, _indubitably_—the most buoyant person that Arthur had ever seen.

Constantly upbeat (read: obnoxious), with a boyish smile persistently splitting his face in half that, when teasing Arthur, curled into a mocking smirk, Alfred was the very epitome of childhood, of free days and warm summers of golden wheat and fruitful hours lain to waste by horseplay and doing anything and everything unproductive. It wasn't just his mental retardation; from what Mattwhatshisname had told him, Alfred was that way even before he had come down with the widely-spreading disease that had damaged his brain at the age of sixteen. If he had not become ill, Alfred would still have the same spirit. Alfred was just that kind of person, Arthur knew.

And if he was honest with himself, that was the reason he disliked Alfred so.

Envy. Envy, envy, envy. Each and every time he so much as laid his green eyes upon the golden-haired man, venomous jealously rose up from Arthur's stomach like bile, churning in the pit of his gut and spitting fire into his heart. The past four years had been nothing short of grueling because of this very reason, but, at the same time, Alfred was Arthur's lifeline—the only thing cementing the Brit to his lonely, vapid reality.

Without him, Arthur was certain he would go insane—at least, more so than he already was. Arthur wished that he himself could be the same way; that he could free himself from the lethal clutches of desolation, of empty nights home alone at his apartment nursing a long-since chilled cup of rum-spiked tea while smoking a pack of cigarettes an hour, of pacing until his legs and feet no longer felt like his own and the old carpeting was worn through to the yellowish, moth-bitten underlay.

That was the true reason they seemed to be always arguing. That flash, that barest glimpse of freedom that accompanied their disputes, was a thrilling sensation that Arthur had not experienced since he was a young boy. It was something for which he would do almost anything feel again—even if it meant rowing painstakingly nonstop with someone who he envied down to the molecular level.

But Alfred was smart—smarter than his peers, at least. It was his will and determination that drove Arthur up the wall more than anything else. The younger man was constantly working, constantly striving to make himself happier (if that was even possible) and better-off in life to the point where Alfred hardly ever got any sleep, working through the nights on the extra homework assignments that he'd requested. It was something Arthur admired in his student, too. All Alfred ever wanted—truly _wanted_—was to be smart. That was all he ever really cared about outside of his family and friends. That was also the main reason Arthur recommended Alfred for Kiku and Edelstein's experiment.

When the pair had come looking for him midday on Thursday during Arthur's lunch break, he knew that something was going on. While it wasn't unusual for him and Kiku to have lunch together on occasion, it was most out of the norm for the small Japanese man to bring along Edelstein or to not let Arthur know he was coming beforehand. Kiku had never been very practiced in truly hiding his emotions (and having a bachelor's in psychology was an added advantage, Arthur supposed), either, and nervousness was radiating off of him in tangible waves, not to mention his disheveled appearance. Edelstein—prim, proper Edelstein—was also rather worse for wear, both men looking as though they'd not slept the entire previous night, nor had washed or changed clothing or eaten anything in hours.

Arthur had known that Kiku and Edelstein had been working on something—something big, mind you—for quite some time, but in no way, shape, or form did Arthur ever once think that it had something to do with what had caused Alfred to lose himself. When they had told Arthur the experimental surgery and new drug regiment they'd been working on that supposedly reversed and halted the effects of brain damage that caused mental retardation and asked if Arthur had any recommendations for willing test subjects, Arthur had been thoroughly adamant against the idea—of course—not wanting to get involved any more in scientific nonsense than he already was by simply teaching at HCCRA, especially if the operation were to fail. All the same, Arthur knew without thinking about it that Alfred was exactly the kind of person they were looking for.

By his very nature, Arthur was a selfish person. Growing up in a household with a drunkard father and four older brothers that hated his guts taught him to take what he wanted when given the first opportunity and to hold onto it to the death, lest it be taken right off the bat or stolen right from under him. Alfred—damnable, despicable Alfred, with his sunbright smiles and sparkling eyes—was just about goddamn everything to Arthur, and Arthur knew that, if Alfred was chosen for the procedure, whether it was successful in the end or otherwise, Arthur would lose him, and, in turn, his freedom.

Perhaps he was a masochist, but, ultimately, Arthur told the doctors of Alfred's existence, if only to stop them from pestering him further and delaying his lunch. Arthur knew that Alfred wanted this. It had been three days since then, and Arthur hadn't seen hide or tail of the young man in all of that time. Kiku had written him about Alfred's acceptance, however, too busy preparing and taking tests to visit him in person. Arthur had just received the letter, in fact, and clenched it tightly in his left fist, uncaring of the folds the violent action created.

Flicking off the condensed ash from the end of his cigarette with his right hand, Arthur watched the small cinders fall through the air with tired emerald eyes, watched as they were torn apart easily by the wind and as they crumbled to dust. The stationery in his clasped hand felt like a lead weight, at the fault not of the paper itself, but of the words written there in Kiku's graceful, neat cursive. Taking another drag, Arthur could only hope that he made the right decision—not only for himself, but for Alfred as well. Reluctantly, Arthur recalled a certain passage that had caught his attention.

_Jones-san is exhibiting signs of improvement already. We have started him on a drug that has enhanced his motor functions to prepare him for the operation tomorrow (or today, depending on whether or not you receive this on Monday), and it is as you said; while Jones-san is severely deficient in many fields, he is extraordinarily determined, and I am positive that this is what will be most imperative in his recovery and mental progression after the operation. There is one thing, though. I have asked him to keep a progress log of sorts to help us map out and measure his progress/time ratio, but at the end of each of his entries he writes "T:KA". As far as I can tell, it is not highly important, but Jones-san is not willing to tell either of us what it means and I am curious. Do you know the meaning behind this acronym?_

And Arthur did. He had always known. That was, perhaps, the most painful part of all.


	5. PART I: v

**progris riport 4—martch 6, 1967**

_I feel funny. I just wok up form the operashun a whil ago and nuthing feels diffrent. if enything I feel werse. Dr Honda sed it was normil too feel that way but I dunno. everything seems a lil lupy rite now he sed its cuse of the drugs. Merfeen or sumthin. I still dont feel smart I wunder if it acktilly werkd I hope it did. I wanna see Mattie and Berwald and Tino but the nersis sey they cant cum in to my room. The stuff around my heds rilly itchy but the nersis sey I cant skratch em either or ill blleed all ovir or sumthin. It was rilly skary erlyer wen Dr Honda and Dr Edelstein put me undir for the operashun. But I new that it wuld help me so I did it anyway. The wierdist thing happind while I was sleepin I had a rilly straynj dreem that I was bak in new york with Mattie and ma and pa. I dont rimembr so good but we wer having alot of fun I was smart then to. I miss new york now. it feels like london is krushing me. I rilly wanna go to klass to and see Artie. _

_Dr Edelstein seys that tommorow ill be taking a bunch of tests agin the "rawr shok" and the pikshur test and ill be rasing Iggy agin. I dunno how wel ill do but ill try my best. They sey ill be abel to go home and go to werk and klass if they go wel but that ill be startid on anohter drug to. I hope I do gud but im skared I wont. Iggys rilly smart. I thot id be to by now but im not Dr Honda seys to be payshunt it teyks time. I gotta belive that to or I think ill go inseyn. _

_But its rilly hard. I think its the hardest thing ive ever dun._

T:KA


End file.
